


MTMTE One-Shot: Just one dance

by Aequitasonazipdisk



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: Dancing, Gen, Late Night Conversations
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-25
Updated: 2018-09-25
Packaged: 2019-07-17 14:44:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16097804
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aequitasonazipdisk/pseuds/Aequitasonazipdisk
Summary: [Based on MTMTE issue #42] After the dance party, Tailgate returns to his hab suite to find his unwilling dance partner, Cyclonus. [Cygate when you squint]





	MTMTE One-Shot: Just one dance

**Author's Note:**

> Following the events of MTMTE Issue #42: 'The frail gaze', inspired by the conversation between the two characters during the dance party.

The door to the habsuite that belonged to Tailgate and Cyclonus beeped and slid open, revealing Tailgate's robot form standing in the doorway. The small mech crossed the threshold into the suite, face a bit flustered and visor shining brightly in a slightly drunken stupor. He swayed a bit with fatigue caused by an evening of dancing, and paused with a delay in his movement, "O-oh, Cyclonus! There you are!" Tailgate watched the silhouette of the warrior mech as the stars shone in through the glass of their shared room. The slightest of purple glimmer from the other mech's living metal was reflected onto the floor and walls, giving the room that heavy presence that he knew Cyclonus secretly loved. Something with presence being the first step in avoiding unneccesary fights. Or something like that. Tailgate never entirely managed to follow those small attentions to status-enforcing detail that came natural to Cyclonus; Tailgate couldn't even recall when he himself wanted to be a Decepticon; the sort of crowd you'd need those skills for. It would never have worked out!

"You, uh, you left. The party? I... You didn't like... it?" The small white and blue mech said, his trademark insecurity taking over. The jetfighter did not move nor make a sound in response.  
Great, Cyclonus had adopted the 'silent statue' pose. Tailgate's shoulders drooped a bit and he ambled over to his recharge slab, plopping down heavily. Primus, the dance party had been something. He had fun. But now the memory of Cyclonus's refusal came back and, well, it wasn't a happy memory. Tailgate wiggled his fingers a bit in anxiety before a slight unhappy sigh escaped him. A shift on the other side of the room came as a response, the sound so subtle that it was barely noticeable. Tailgate blinked, looked up and turned slightly.

"I don't know what you meant back there, what you were on about..." The deep voice that belonged to Cyclonus, hardened in battle and rough life situations, murmured. Tailgate blinked slowly, the traces of what was likely one drink too many slowing down his comprehension to a silent stare.  
"I'm sorry." He spoke. Inwardly he cringed at the slow realization that he apologized without knowing what he had done wrong. The slight narrowing of Cyclonus's optics as he looked over his shoulder told him that the jet probably thought something along those lines as well.  
"Tailgate, I don't want you to be sorry. Even more, I don't want you to think that you're embarrassing me."  
The small mech's blue visor widened in surprise , "I-I'm not?"  
Cyclonus turned fully and stalked over to him, "I don't even know where you get the idea. It's ridiculous. If I find you embarrassing, you'd know; I'd live in another hab suite."  
If Tailgate could smile, he would've. Instead, his visor flared brighter and he lunged forward under the exclamation of a happy chime. Because of his state of delayed reaction his spontaneous pounce was abruptly cut short, and the resulting effect was a less-than-graceful slump against one of Cyclonus's samurai-style greaves.  
"... Tailgate." A somewhat lament-filled sigh sounded from above him. The white and blue mech cringed, "I-I'm sorry... Uhm, you, uh, still don't find me embarrassing, right?"  
"Maybe just a tad on the rash and clumsy side." Cyclonus answered absently as he shifted. The click of a button being pressed followed before he resettled his weight to allow the smaller mech to rest against him.  
"Eep?" The tiny worried sound accompanied Tailgate's blue-eyed glance up, meeting Cyclonus's red optics resting in a thoughtfully observing expression. The purple warrior held out an open hand to the minibot as a soft but familiar melody started playing from a music system on which Tailgate had once insisted they definitely needed in the room.

"You asked me for just one dance, Tailgate." Cyclonus explained, “Do you still want it?”

[End of story: MTMTE One-Shot: Just one dance]

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed this short story. Reviews are welcome.


End file.
